Letters to a Mysterious Stranger [ONGOING]

The Life I Owe, Part 1

(Sent on July 29th, Monday, 10:27 pm, YHA Haworth)

To: prisoner24601@mpu.edu.ph

From: jerusha.abad@gmail.com

Dear Zorro,

I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to disobey you.

I only got to read Victoria's email yesterday. Aside from the fact that it came too late, there is no wifi in this hostel. It's the same in the cheap hostels we stayed in in Italy and Greece. I'm just borrowing someone else's dongle, but the signals are weak. Hopefully, I will be able to send this successfully, even if I need to rehit "send" for more than ten times.

I don't know why you wanted me to stay at Caermor. Maybe you want me to patch up with you-know-who. I do plan to. Believe me, I have thought of a hundred ways of saying "sorry," but I'm not sure how I could say it if I still feel weird when I am speaking with him. Our friendship has definitely changed these past months, and I know it can't be the way it was. There is no point denying that now.

You see, I now realize that I have feelings for him. It may not be a surprise to you, given that I have written about him and his sister a lot, but it is to me.

But here's the problem: I'm not sure if I really know him.

He behaves as if he is a wise and world-weary sage, but in reality, he is very much like a little boy inside. He treats me as an equal, but he can be bossy sometimes. When we are together, I know I can just be myself. It's funny, but I feel like I've known him my whole life. It was as if I found my second self. But given all that has happened recently, I realize that I've created a dream and it is only now that I am waking up to the truth.

I think it is possible that he returns these feelings, and that makes this all abysmally complicated.

There are also these huge issues with his family—a family who, save Jervis and Julia, will not welcome me, and I don't want to become another reject again. Moreover, I don't think I can be with a man who participates in the culture of corruption that has doomed our country to its third world status. It is just not right.

That is the voice of reason and my conscience speaking, but my heart says another thing. My foolish and deceitful heart tells me that hardly anyone in this world cares for me, and I should just take love wherever I can find it.

Love. What do I know about it anyway? I just know that I can't be selfish about this.

Moreover, I need to learn to find my security in God, not Master Jervie or even you—you who have become more than family to me.

The reason I came here is not just so I could have space from you-know-who, but also so that I can connect more to God, who is ultimately the source of all love and who is one who can help me understand this mess that I am in. I realize that I've been putting God in arm's length for far too long, and I am only following Him whenever it is convenient for me. It is terrible of me to only come to Him whenever I need him or just want to feel better about myself, like my own morphine. I have come to realize how much I don't really know God, and how much I really want to know Him. Of course, my circumstances made me think so, but I believe this is all providential. I hope that you can eventually come to respect this decision of mine.

There is an otherworldly and transcendental serenity to this place, and maybe that's how the Brontes managed to write their novels here. We have a few sessions, and some time to spend in various groups we are assigned to but we are also given ample time to reflect, roam the moors and pray. I find that walking out helps me pray, because there is always something about nature that communicates something about God's love for us. Of course, that idea seems to have been lifted from a poem by Wordsworth or an essay by Emerson, but it feels true here.